An Ending for the Werewolf and His Love
by madame-werewolf
Summary: SPOILERS for Deathly Hallows! This is just a little something I wrote because I felt a bit cheated with the ending for these characters in the book. If you feel the same way, have a little read of my kinda soppy interpretation and please review!


Lupin led his group of battlers across one side of the huge lawn that spread before Hogwarts with a greater determination that he had ever felt before. There was no way he could allow Voldemort to prosper, not when his first – and quite possibly last, he thought grimly – son had just entered into the world. His followers could sense it in him too: many of them had lessons with him during his short teaching career; else they had worked with or fought alongside him in the past. There was something of the wolf in Remus Lupin that was not generally present at this time of the month. His jaw clenched, his eyes steely and unwavering, it appeared almost as though the premature ageing of the werewolf had left his face, overwritten by flashes of green and red light as he approached the nearest group of Death Eaters that were attempting to break down the castle's fortifications.

Stopping and turning to face the band of dedicated souls behind him, Lupin felt a sudden surge of uncertainty. He had never been a true leader, since his youth it had been somebody else; Sirius or James had always delivered the rallying call when necessary. Some of the faces he looked upon were barely of age, and it made his stomach turn thinking of the possibility, indeed the probability, of their premature deaths. He recalled sorrowfully that Lily and James had been barely older when they met their ends; likewise Sirius had much of his life snatched away from him with imprisonment at only 21 years of age. But they were gone now. As were Dumbledore, Mad-Eye and hundreds of others that he felt ashamed not to have known. How many more had to fall before the end? He shook these thoughts out of his mind with a grimace, which he attempted to turn into an encouraging smile as the people around him looked at him with expectation. Yes, the others may be gone now, but he remained, and realised there were nervous youngsters and bereaved warriors looking to him for words of wisdom. It was high time he stepped up to the mantle.

For Sirius and James, for Dumbledore and Hogwarts … and most of all for Tonks and his infant son.

"Good witches and wizards," he spoke, the wolfish glint returning to his eye. "Now is not the time for lavish words or false pretences. You know what we are facing; you know what is at stake. We may outnumber the foe, but these are dangerous opponents. Most likely some of you will encounter magic you have never faced before … but you must not lose heart. We have a weapon that the enemy does not! We have all that is good on our side; we have hope for a better life. We have…" he swallowed and momentarily closed his eyes. "Hope for a future in which we, our friends, families, our _children_, can live in safety and harmony. It's hard to recall it now, but we have seen a better time, and we are fighting to see it again! Believe. Do your best. Remember what Hogwarts stands for, what each and every good person, wizard and muggle alike, stands for. They'll be upon us in mere moments, friends. Fight for what is right!"

He turned quickly to look at the hexes smashing into the failing protection mere feet away from them before returning his gaze to those behind him, now all holding out wands; some steady, some quaking.

"Good luck!"

As an almighty crack sounded, followed by cackles of mirth from those who had caused it, Lupin afforded another glance up at the moon. His tormentor for one night a month, his inspiration the remaining days, it leered at him in its gibbous state, shining down with a decidedly green reflective tinge. His thoughts progressed hastily from regret that his greatest foe was not at its most dangerous; thus he was not at his, to relief, as he remembered the allies all around him. Then a stronger, sorrowful feeling hit him like a boot to the stomach. Would he ever again experience the complete peace and bliss of the night of the full moon? The monthly night off from his worries, when he could curl up, switch off, safe in his medicated state, in sanctuary with his wife - and recently his own son. The thought knocked him for six, now that it was so real and so possible, and he was almost glad of the distraction created by a surge of Voldemort's supporters toward him.

The mass of hooded figures swarmed simultaneously through the defences on his side and Kingsley's, and with sideward glances towards the other assemblies of allies side by side with his band, he leapt into action. Dodging a curse from one foe, he silently summoned a hex towards another, and his wand duly obeyed. He heard a whoop behind him as his target crumpled, but it was premature; the youngster who had celebrated was walloped with another unspoken spell. Lupin did not dare look back, nor did he really have the time. He knocked out another Dark supporter, before turning to find himself face-to-face with another tall, masked figure. Yet he had not been cursed. There was no pain, no flash of green light, just a cold chuckle.

"Not biting and snarling today then Mr. Lupin?" came a harsh drawl from under the hood. Lupin breathed heavily, increased levels of adrenaline and fear rising inside him.

"I… you… who are you?" he said loudly, needing the extra volume to overcome the blasts and screams around him.

"Someone with a severe distaste for werewolves, Remus, that's all you need to know. I've done my research… had you pinpointed from day one…" The voice rasped the words, more and more unpleasant by the second. Lupin tightened his grip around his wand, but the man threatening him was too close to enable him to draw it.

"You… the werewolves are on your side! Greyback…" Lupin panted, in a slight panic now. The Death Eater before him was in a far better position to deliver a crushing blow.

"FENRIR! Precisely my point dear Lupin, that beast has driven me to distraction the past few months!" The anonymous Death Eater spoke with a greater loathing even than before, and whilst he was caught up in his hatred, Lupin took the opportunity to look around him, eager to seek out an assistant. Sure he recognised the voice, but still unable to place it, the frustration was building in Lupin's chest. People were falling and screaming, struggling all around him, and he was caught up in a tête-à-tête with a bitter Death Eater. It was an infuriating waste of time. His opponent was still talking but Lupin was struggling to listen, partly not wanting to give him the satisfaction but due moreso to the frantic way in which his mind was seeking a way out of the predicament.

There could hardly have been a more opportune moment for the blast which shook the ground and knocked the Death Eater off balance, his hood blown off in the process. His face was instantly recognisable.

"You!" Lupin roared, finally getting his wand into an appropriate position to confront the man who had fought with Sirius two years ago… only minutes before his death. The memory of his closest friend, and more specifically his friend's death, made him all the more dogged in his wish to increase Dolohov's hatred of werewolves. He advanced towards him, saying in his best snarl, "Fenrir Greyback has caused you little more suffering than currying your Master's favour in your place from time to time! You… you have no _idea_ what Moony is willing to inflict!"

The image of Sirius burned into him, and he recalled the night of their reunion, when they had stood side by side, prepared to cross the boundary to murder together. That night it had been indirectly another good friend who had prevented it; Harry had judged – quite rightly – that James would not have wanted them to become murderers for the sake of a small traitor. The irony did not escape him that had they ignored his advice that night this situation may not be facing him now. And yet it was. The futility of "what-if" was all too apparent, they had all come so far since then. He now had a future to protect. For the first time in his life he truly knew what it was to love so deeply and completely that killing for the sake of another was the merest token of love, and dying the greatest.

Still, when Dolohov too had succeeded in drawing his wand, the battle that followed was not one of killing curses, but one of wits, one of intelligence and craftiness. Lupin ducked and dived to avoid what his adversary's wand was sending towards him, and succeeded in planting various hexes and injuries upon him. It was only when he saw, out of the corner of his eye, a hot-headed figure approaching with speed and yet also with caution, that he himself was hit. It was a minor blow, catching his left arm, but as he saw the expression change in the advancing ally and her increased anxiety he purposefully fell to the floor, in silence. Dolohov meanwhile was distracted by a young witch casting spells at his back, and turned on her instead, just as the figure reached Lupin's side and dropped to her knees.

"I'm alright," Lupin whispered, as Tonks bent over him, examining the damage quickly, with one hand on his head - her hair empathetically matching the grey-flecked shade of his. "He'll be back though. You need to get out of here! You shouldn't have come!"

"Remus John Lupin," she retorted angrily but softly. "After all this time I can't believe you thought I'd accept staying behind. I want to be with you, I _need_ to be."

"But Dora … our son!" Lupin stuttered, well aware this fight was already lost. "H-he can't be alone…"

"He won't be Remus. He never will be. But don't you see why I had to come? I didn't want you to be alone either, not at this stage." Tonks continued as Lupin pulled himself into a sitting position alongside her. He opened his mouth to argue but she stopped him with a finger to his lips. "I wanted to fight for Ted's future too. That's what's driving me, as I'm sure it is you…"

"But if… if we lose the battle tonight…" Lupin struggled to voice his darkest fear. "If the worst happens, he'll have nobody. We shouldn't risk it, we can't."

"Then you go back," she said quite seriously. His mouth fell open at the suggestion. "Exactly," she continued. "Why for a second would you think it should be any different for me?"

Lupin looked steadily into her eyes, which were bristling with tears but unwavering in her conviction nonetheless. He heaved a huge, defeated sigh and blinked back the glistening sorrow from his own eyes. "Fine," he conceded softly. "All the more reason for us to get through this." Tonks forced a gentle smile and leant over to softly kiss his lips before embracing him tightly.

She pulled him to his feet with another concerned glance at his stricken arm which was now hanging uselessly by his side. She grasped it nonetheless and they advanced together with wands held up in their free hands.

A sickening laugh behind them caused them to spin in unison, ready to curse any advancing opponent.

"How sweeeet!" Dolohov crooned with a sadistic grin. "The werewolf and the outcast with the funny hair! Who to kill first?"

Lupin dropped Tonks' hand and stepped forward in front of her. "You harm a 'funny' hair on her head and I'll-"

"Crucio!" Dolohov interrupted him with a gleeful expression over his face, as Tonks fell to the ground and began to scream in agony, her body contorted with the pain he was sending through her.

Lupin flew at him, all magic forgotten and knocked him off his feet, hammering him with his healthy hand and shouting obscenities, wand clasped very loosely in his crippled left hand. He managed to knock Dolohov's wand from him, freeing Tonks, but was presently hit with a curse from an unknown source. Thrown backwards from Dolohov's battered but breathing body, he lay unmoving a short distance away.

The Dark wizard managed to reunite himself with his wand once more and was struggling to his feet. He raised it high and opened his mouth to shout the most unforgivable of all curses when he was hit square in the chest with a Stunning Spell. Tonks had regained enough composure upon seeing her love stricken and left Dolohov unconscious as she crawled over to Lupin's side.

"Remus?" she said softly. His eyes were closed but his face was etched with pain. "Darling? Are you ok?" The tears pricked at her eyes once more as she looked him up and down, hands on his chest, his hair, his face.

"I'm still here," he managed to whisper, grimacing as he did so. "Run my dear, run while you still can. You can still get back to safety… back to our baby…"

Tonks lay across his chest, sobbing freely now. "I'm not leaving you Remus. Not now." He managed to raise a hand to her shoulder but the pain sweeping through him was excruciating. He realised the end was near, that his part in the battle was complete. What neither of them realised was that Dolohov was silently stirring a little way beyond them, witnessing the tender scene.

"It's over for me, my dearest Nymphadora," Remus said softly. "Thank you for everything. Giving me a chance… at love… at living again… I never thought it would be possible…" He winced again and Tonks shuffled slightly so she could look into his fading eyes.

"Shhh…" she soothed him, reaching to wipe the scarce tears from his worried, battle-worn and scarred face, ignoring her own that flooded down her cheeks. "I love you Remus Lupin. Thank _you._"

He forced a pained smile and mouthed "and I love you. Goodbye, my…"

With that he was gone, eyelids flickering shut but mouth remaining partly open in a more peaceful smile.

Tonks sniffed loudly, and in tandem her hair flopped down over her eyes adopting an impenetrable shade of black. Picking up her husband's wand and kissing him softly, she barely had time to mourn his loss before a compassionless snigger behind her dragged her away from her sanctuary of sadness.

Dolohov had risen and now stood over her, pointing his wand downwards.

"Touching," he said. "But you shan't be apart long!"

Tonks glared at him and raised her own wand, black hair now streaked with a violent, angry red.

"You sick bastard," she managed to utter, clenching her wand tightly. "You heartless…" – sparks erupted from her wand, surprising them both and she was cut off.

"Do your worst, child," Dolohov scowled at her. "The battle's as good as over. Your _valiant_ lot are dropping like flies, Potter shall be captured. The world is ours."

With a fiery determination she made a split-second decision on what curse to shout, but by the time she opened her mouth to deliver it the Death Eater had silently summoned the killing curse upon her head.

Falling backwards seemed to last an eternity, but Tonks duly collapsed upon her husband's recently departed form, features softening as her fingers brushed against his.

Then, everything was still.


End file.
